The Ceo's Contracted Mistress
The Ceo’s Contracted Mistress Chapter 54

Chapter 53

Olivier stepped into the house he grew up in surprised to hear almost complete silence. It was near ten in the evening and despite the countless phone calls he’d dodged from his parents and siblings, Bobbie hadn’t tried to call him a single time. Not that he would have answered anyway. He knew his family were upset he’d gone against everything he’d been brought up to believe. He would prefer to address the issues head on. He’d sent a single message along to say he’d be home by ten and nobody had bothered him since.

He’d expected a firing squad to greet him. The total silence was odd, especially for his family. Surely, they hadn’t left and gone somewhere else. They knew to expect him

He stepped further into the foyer and looked into the solarium and then towards the other living area but there was nobody. Where had everyone gone?

A voice from overhead on the landing to the stairs caught his ear.

“You look lost.”

Olivier looked up to see Bobbie standing watching him, leaning over the balcony in a pair of jean shorts and a black t-shirt. She looked comfortable in his family home in her casual attire, yet he could feel even from the distance she was on edge. “Hi. Not lost. Usually there’s a welcoming committee.”

“You’ll have to forgive them. They weren’t feeling particularly welcoming.”

“I understand they may be upset.”

“Do you?”

He noted her tone was tired as if she’d had a full day with the kids. “Where are Max and Ollie?”

“Timon had the great idea to go looking for fireflies which has since turned into a campout I believe. Though I may be mistaken. They’re all out in the field.”

“You didn’t want to go?”

“The point of the fireflies hunt is to keep everyone away while we talk.”

He watched as she stood up from the rail and began to descend the staircase. Her posture was straight, and she was serious. Her usual smiling face was tense, and he noted she appeared tired. “Bobbie,” he started to speak but she held up a hand.

“I need a drink and I found out your dad stocks the same bourbon you had in your hotel.” She walked to the library, and he followed her.

He felt like an errant schoolboy with the way she glided past him with a good space between them. He had known she would be upset at what he’d done. This silence though was not what he’d anticipated. He was expecting fireworks from the entire group of them. Instead, they’d left him to face a one-woman firing squad. He followed her into the library and noted she knew exactly where to go.

“Timon and I had a chat today,” she spoke as she poured herself a drink. “I accepted his apology. We had drinks at dinner and found we have many things in common. We both thoroughly enjoy the research part of our jobs, we both enjoy a good bourbon and,” she put a glass in his hand as she looked him straight in the eye, “we both think for the first time in your life you’re feeling like you are out of control and unable to change the narrative and so you forced it today.”

“Is that what you think?”

“I think you felt the only way to get ahead of the story was to make it your own and to take it over.” She sipped her drink, “your sisters felt differently. Your parents each have their own thoughts, though I should warn you, papa has become quite protective of me in the last two days. I daresay he’d fight you to the death if you hurt me. Right now, he is very concerned about how today’s interview will affect my mental health. He had Mireille made my favorite for dinner. She’s very good at grilling steak.”

“Papa?” he questioned her name for his father.

“Mm, I’ve never had a father before, but I believe I’ve stolen yours. He likes me.”

Olivier could not help the smile curling his lips. “I see. Should I be worried?”

“Not of papa, “she shrugged, “but Gael is another story. He called me today. Wants to meet me in person and the kids. He feels strongly you threw him under the bus today with your story about the dog. He insists he had at least twenty stitches.”

“The number changes on any given day as does the size of the scar and the proximity to major arteries, depending on who is hearing the story.” Olivier made a face as he found himself sitting down in a cognac-colored leather wingback chair. He patted his lap for Bobbie to join him and she frowned at him and took another seat. Perhaps he was misreading her easy conversation.

“Your grandfather is coming Saturday to meet us. Your father agreed he could come here however he is prohibited from bringing any firearms. I believe this has been a sticking point in the past but one he was willing to bend one time.”

“He feels strongly about his right to bear arms.”

Bobbie settled into her seat and crossed her legs at the ankles, “he was willing to compromise for the situation.”

He eyed the way she was looking into her tumbler, “I cannot tell your mood and usually I am quite good at it.”

“Perhaps it’s because I’m not sure of my mood. The last few days have been tumultuous to say the least. I should let you know Veronique is coming tomorrow and offered to do some kind of blessing for me. She mentioned a ritual which instantly had your sisters and mother on edge. I believe it’s a fertility thing. Nobody could dissuade her from coming. She mentioned something about needing a chicken and rum.”

“Jesus Christ,” Olivier g*****d as he rubbed his hand over his face. “I will talk to her.”

“Good luck. Even your father couldn’t make her listen. She said she feels your television interview brought bad feelings between us, even though I didn’t say such a thing, and as a result she needs to clear my spiritual air, or I won’t give you the babies she sees for us.”

He wished Bobbie were at least laughing at his grandmother’s antics, but she appeared, if anything, resigned about what was to come from the crazy old woman.

“I’m sorry. I will talk with her.”

“Why did you do it, Olivier?” she blurted the question.

“As a man dedicated to knowing the financial world inside and out, I knew the ramifications for my companies if I continued to let the stories circulate with the rumors.”

“You gave a false narrative. Much of what you said was a twist on the truth.”

He acknowledged her comment with a shrug, “I’m more concerned the press have completely wrong information versus our version of the truth.”

“Will this be the normal for our entire lives or was this just so you can control the press?”

He regarded her carefully and spoke softly after sipping his drink, “why are you so angry?”

She gave a wry twist of her lips, “am I? I can’t call how I’m feeling angry. I know I’m not happy. I’m not pissed off. I’m not ambivalent either. I’m sorting through it. I will say what I am feeling is surprised.”

“I know you weren’t expecting me to do an interview.”

“You’re right. I wasn’t. How could I know? It’s not as if we’d communicated at all in the hours before you did the interview.”

He saw the pink tint to her cheeks and realized she was upset, and he needed to fix this. “Chérie, I did not want to cause you unnecessary worry.”

“Keeping me in the dark about my own life and the lives of my children was for my benefit?” she asked coldly.

Olivier wondered if the temperature in the room had dropped from the tone of her voice as she lifted an eyebrow sarcastically. “If you’ll let me explain.”

“Please do. Please explain to me how when you spoke to me not ten hours before your interview you failed to mention you would be airing our dirty laundry for the entire world to see, giving me no warning, no way to prepare for it and no recourse for your actions. I am most interested in how you arbitrarily made a family decision which impacts my life significantly without my input or my consideration of the matter. Tell me exactly what was going on in your mind when last night you talked me through an o****m when you knew not ten hours later you were going to completely f**k me over without consent.” She tilted her head as she studied him, “I’ve changed my mind. It’s anger I’m feeling”

“Bobbie, this was not meant to f**k you over. Why would you feel this way?”

“Really? You did an entire interview without mentioning my name but called me ‘your girl’ which removes my identity. You then made me seem cold and callous with your rendition of the events of my sister’s passing. You made it seem like I hid in the shadows like some terrified coward. As your father pointed out, there was no mention of me busting my a*s to raise two kids alone, getting my degree and giving them a hell of a childhood, without your help, I might add. You announced to the world our engagement without my permission. Overall, you took our story and twisted it to suit your business needs and to clear your name and left out anything which doesn’t make me appear some silly blonde airhead who ran away from the big bad man. You literally told the world I was still frightened of you weeks ago but now we’re engaged to be married. Could you have made me a smidgen less of a flighty bimbo?”

“Bobbie, I felt I painted you in a positive light.”

“Did you and Riggs come up with the dialogue?”

“I went over its multiple times with Emile.”

“Olivier! Do you hear yourself? You reviewed what you would reveal about our lives with a lawyer and never once asked me with what I was comfortable!”

Her voice took on a high-pitched tone which warned him he was treading on thin ice. “Would you have been okay with me revealing any of our story?”

“Hell no! But I might have been more open had I been consulted.”

“Better to ask forgiveness than permission in this situation then. I did the right thing. I rest my case.”

“You’re not a lawyer and you don’t get to rest your case. You asked me to trust you. If you’re expecting me to blindly trust you will do right by me and our family, then you need to earn it. What you did today was wrong. You exposed our secrets and our love affair to the world without involving me in the discussion. It wasn’t just your story to tell.” She stood up, “I’m going to bed.”

“I will come up – “

“Alone Olivier. When you realize what it means to have a consensual relationship where the major decisions affecting one another are discussed ahead of time in mature rational dialogue, then we can share a bed. Until then, I sleep alone.”

He wanted to protest but the look on her face was unyielding. He sat sipping his drink listening to her slow footsteps disappearing up the stairs. Some time later he looked up to see his father watching him from the door.

“You’re a fool if you’re still sitting down here, and she’s gone to bed.” Levi leaned against the door.

“Where are the kids?” he ignored his father’s comment and looked past him through the door.

“In the field. Did you apologize?”

“For what? I did nothing wrong. What I did today will right my businesses and put the focus on the paparazzi and off the kids. It was the right thing to do.”

“You told a woman’s story without her permission and without her involvement. Did you not even consider for a moment how this will impact her at work, in the PTA or on the soccer field? For the rest of her life people will know she believed you trafficked her. You told the world Olivier her deepest scariest secret and you didn’t ask her if it was okay.”

“It was the truth!”

“It was her truth. It wasn’t your secret. It was hers.” Levi shook his head, “my son. I love you. You need to make this right.”

“It’s already out there. It’s not as if I can print a retraction.”

“You’re missing the big picture.” Levi sighed loudly, “for someone so damn smart you sure are stupid when it comes to women.”

“This isn’t new.” He grumbled tossing back his drink

“Let me see if I can make you see it another way,” his father tapped his chin. “There was a boy once who had a dog that was rough around the edges. In fact, everyone hated the dog. The only one who could get close to the dog was the boy. He loved that dog. It was his best friend. It slept with him on his bed. It chased him while he rode his bike. It hiked with him for miles and did campouts overnight and kept him safe. It was his. No matter how much everyone else felt the dog was a problem, the boy always said it was his problem. Then one day his problem got loose, and everyone knew how big and bad the problem was because it bit someone. Now, instead of letting the boy handle his own problem and deal with it in his own way and instead of allowing the boy insight and a chance to manage the repercussions of the dog on his own, an a*****e went and shot the dog in the head. It caused strife and turmoil for years to come. Not because the dog died. Everyone knew it was going to have to happen. It was because the choice of how to manage the situation was ripped away from the boy.”

“Papa, are you legitimately telling me you’re comparing me telling the world Bobbie thought I trafficked her is on the same level as Gael shooting my dog?”

“Yes. The fact you are asking lends me to believe you’re slow on the uptake tonight. Perhaps lay off the bourbon.”

“It is hardly the same thing. He killed a living breathing creature.”

“The dog was worse than Cujo. He kept your mother and Fiona in a hayloft for an hour. He was mean, surly, and grumpy. Why you picked him from the pound I’ll never know but the thing was evil. Regardless, he was your responsibility and Gael took over your control of him. It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t any fairer today when you removed Bobbie’s control over her past. You were wrong. You should have talked to her first.”

“But –”

“Olivier, I believe your heart was in the right place but putting your wants and ideas ahead of hers speaks to your level of commitment to her. Either she is your equal in your relationship or she is not. You cannot choose which day you are the big bad man who wears the pants in the family and which day her opinion matters. It is all or nothing. Take it from someone who is learning still after nearly forty years. Olivier, let me leave you this tidbit of advice before I go replace your maman and put her to bed. If you are questioning even for a split second whether whatever action you are taking should be fun by Bobbie, the answer is always yes.”

“And what if I didn’t consider it for even a split second?”

“Then you’re screwed, and I can’t help you. You and I both know though you second guessed not telling her. It’s why you ducked everyone’s calls and why you didn’t call her before of after the interview. You knew you made a decision that she should have been part of.”

Olivier watched his father get up from the chair and stride confidently to the wine rack and pull a bottle of red and two glasses and disappear upstairs. A short time later he heard him whistling as he walked out of the house and back towards the field. He was going to woo his wife. It was what Olivier should be doing.

He stood and set his glass down and deliberated a second drink but knew he was avoiding the situation. His father had been correct when he suggested Olivier had known Bobbie wouldn’t have appreciated being left in the dark. While he still believed he had done the right thing, perhaps he had gone about it the wrong way.

He made his way up the stairs to his bedroom and pushed the door open gently. He could see the outline of her shape in the bed, facing away from him, her breathing too uneven for her to be asleep. He moved to sit beside her, and she didn’t roll away, but she didn’t open her eyes either. He studied the roundness of her cheeks, the smattering of freckles from their beach vacation and the dark lashes fluttered against her cheeks. He reached a finger to stroke her face and then pulled his hand back when she opened one eye and glared at him.

“I cannot touch you?”

“Not if you value your life,” she bit out. “Which part of alone did you misinterpret?”

“I miss you.”

“Not good enough.” She pointed to the window, “you missed the kids too. I’m certain of it. Perhaps you should go spend the night in the field with them.”

“I would much rather be in here apologizing.”

“Don’t apologize for something when you’re not sorry for what you’ve done.”

He considered even angry she was still the most beautiful woman he’d ever met. “Can we talk some more?”

She surprised him, “no. I am all talked out Olivier. I need a night alone to put my thoughts right. Please go. The kids will want to see you more than I do in this moment.”

He watched her eyes shut against him and she flipped to her other side. Sighing he got off the bed and headed down the stairs and out the door to the field. Perhaps the children would ease his battered heart.